


Desperate Times

by Orbal Juice (Originia)



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Eldritch Creatures - Freeform, Gen, Hater and Peepers inadvertently save the day, Hurt / Comfort?, Near Death Experiences, Scary, Sylvia is best friend, Sylvia's prepared to fight, Wander and Sylvia get in a bad situation, Wander is not happy, an accidental rescue, and then the Hat gives Wander a weapon, i just really wanted to write that scenario, the hat gives what you need not what you want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:14:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6865654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Originia/pseuds/Orbal%20Juice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He held knife all wrong, more like a shard of glass than a weapon. He clearly didn't want it, but he wasn't making any move to dispose of it. </p>
<p>"You don't fight," she said.</p>
<p>"Never."</p>
<p>"The hat knows that."</p>
<p>Wander looked down at his feet, where the discarded article lay. "It does."</p>
<p>(Or in which desperate times call for desperate measures and Wander's hat gives you what you need, not what you want.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate Times

**Author's Note:**

> First Wander Over Yonder fic, and somehow all four mains show up. Hope I managed to keep mostly everyone in-character. This was tough to write. I really just wanted to explore a situation in which Wander would be faced with receiving a weapon from his hat. Let me know what you think!
> 
> (The ending's not my favourite but what can you do.)

It wasn't looking good.

The menacing sounds seemed to echo all around. Large, shapeless shadows that had yet to break through the last of their cover. A disharmonious cadence of growls and snarls. All heralding doom in the dark shadows of the night. Their fire had been smothered, killed at the first hint of danger in the night. But it hadn't been enough. Clearly these creatures – monsters – had long since zeroed in on what they likely believed to be their next tasty meal.

No it wasn't looking good at all.

Bad planet, bad time.

And, as Wander turned to face her with a sheepish grimace and an empty bottle or Orbal juice, bad florping luck.

But Sylvia would be damned if she didn't find them a way out of it.

"Okay buddy, guess that option's out of the picture," she said. A loud snapping noise to her left had her whipping around, eyes trained helplessly on the shadows. She still had no idea what they were up against. "Mind looking in that hat of yours for something to help us out here."

Wander chuckled loudly in the tense atmosphere. "Oh boy now there's an idea! You always have the best ideas, Syl." The hat in question was whisked off his furry head, hand reaching in like a magician readying his trick.

Wander hummed and hawed, looking for all the galaxy as if this was simply another outing. A snap and hiss had Sylvia turning around uselessly. She couldn't pin-point where these beasties were. It was maddening, and yet Wander didn't seem pressed in the slightest. She turned back to her buddy. It looked as if he was finally pulling something from that darned hat. About time.

"About time," she told him, because sometimes Wander needed the extra encouragement. "What'dya got there buddy?"

Wander looked over and up at her, hat tucked under one arm and mouth all tiny and flat. There were twin pieces of something metallic and too-large held in his small hands. He held out the things – brass knuckles – seeming unhappy to have them in the first place. 

"These are for you," he said, voice just a little south of normal.

Sylvia blinked, unsettled. She took the weapons silently, sliding them on (they fit perfectly) as she scanned the area.

"Thanks buddy," she said when she found her voice. "Just leave it to me."

It was going to be a fight. It was going to be _her_ fight, because Wander didn't fight. Sylvia honestly didn't think he was capable of it. And Wander was unhappy because it simply wasn't in his way to let fighting be the answer to anything.

Well tough. The hat gives you what you need – his words, not hers – so if that was the case then a fight was what they were going to get.

"Ya' know," Wander said, mostly to himself. "I was _kinda_ hoping for some way to escape outta here." He peered into the hat, still looking distinctly let down. "Maybe I just need'ta check again!" He hummed a little ditty as he stuck his arm back into the depths of the article.

Sylvia wanted to tell him to keep it down, but given the snarl coming from her right it was far too late for that. Instead she just sighed.

"You do that, buddy. But try and stay out of trouble, got it?" She started forwards, hoping to keep this fight as far away from her friend as possible. "Stay behind me and I'll handle the creepy creatures."

With Wander humming away, Sylvia focused her attention on the line of large ominous trees. This area had definitely seemed friendlier in the light of day. Her gaze jumped from shadow to shadow, finally landing on something a bit brighter than the rest of its surroundings. It was vaguely circular, a few feet above her own height, and it floated a little through the shadows. As she watched it drifted northward, paused, then slid back down again. It then... blinked. It was an _eye_. A singular eye, far larger and far higher than Sylvia had been expecting, glowing softly in the darkness.

Nothing she couldn't handle.

She hoped.

From the sounds echoing around their tiny sanctuary, there had to be at least two other besides the one staring Sylvia down. It was... not good odds, but not the worse she'd ever had to face. Whatever it was out there couldn't be that bad.

A soft "Oh," caught her attention. Sylvia glanced back at her friend, worried that a beasty had snuck up behind her. Instead it was still just Wander, standing by himself, holding something gingerly in two hands. He had let go of his hat. It was slumped unceremoniously on the ground, looking forgotten. That was... strange. Stranger still was Wander's uncharacteristic silence. After the soft exclamation of surprise he had stopped talking or humming altogether. Sylvia looked around for danger. Clearly she had missed something.

"Wander, buddy, what is it?"

He blinked a few times, eyes a little too wide, before looking up at her. As he did so, she was able to catch a glimpse of what he cradled in his hands.

"Oh," she said herself, taking a few steps in his direction. "A knife's good and all, but I can't really hold that and make use of these too." She held up her fists in front of her, brass knuckles gleaming in the moonlight. There was a snarl from the trees, following by a wet sounding slop of something heavy uncoiling. Sylvia shuddered, whipping back around. "And anyways buddy,” she called behind her, “the Duchess and Lady Haymaker would miss out on all the fun. Can't have that now, can we?"

She tried not to think about the fact that the hat was offering them more weapons to deal with this situation. Those thoughts could only lead to desperation.

"This present wasn't for you."

Wander's voice was very small and very wrong. Sylvia swallowed back her surprise. She suddenly felt cold, and it wasn't from the ugly one-eyed mass that was finally detaching from the shadows. Despite the danger it put her in, she looked back at her friend. Wander stared straight ahead into the gloom surrounding them, expression pinched and unhappy. He glanced over at her.

"This present is for me," he said unnecessarily. He held knife all wrong, more like a shard of glass than a weapon. He clearly didn't want it, but he wasn't making any move to dispose of it.

Sylvia blinked down at him. "You don't fight," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Never." It was said louder than it needed to be, which was often Wander's way, but the tone was far harsher than she'd ever expect from him. Wander didn't meet her gaze. Sylvia swallowed thickly.

"The hat knows that," she said, if only to confirm what she already knew.

Wander looked down at his feet, where the discarded article lay. "It does."

Sylvia spared one last look at her upset friend before turned back towards the danger. The creepy beast had closed in, several detestable feet of black slime now visible. She wondered what good her fists would do against gelatinous mass.

"Don't beat yourself up over it buddy," she said, watching as a slit appeared and grew across the front of the monster. It opened up, wider and wider, to reveal a crowd of shiny, needle-sharp teeth. The black slime rippled and swelled, pushing the monster forwards, and a threatening hiss seeped from it. The noise was echoed by another hiss and snarl somewhere behind her. “I think the hat’s doing the best it can.” Her legs felt like jelly.

"Syl?" She felt a warm fuzzy shoulder press up against her side. "This looks pretty bad." A pause, and Sylvia could feel Wander breathe, in and out. She wondered if he still held the knife, little good it would do for him. "I don't think these folks even speak Basic."

She let out a huff of air, something that probably could have been a laugh if the situation wasn't so dire. "Oh buddy, I don't think they'd listen to us even if they did."

"You never know until you try."

The creature oozed closer, a snarl reminiscent of crushed broken glass coming from somewhere deep in its throat. Sylvia could have closed the distance – strike when the thing least expected it – but then she'd lose the small comfort of her friend's warmth. She didn't think she could stand up without it.

"They’re not gonna give us a chance _to_ try, Wander." Her tone was light and easy, same as always. But her words betrayed the reality of this situation. The creature continued to move forwards, and she still hadn't caught sight of its end. It was enormous, and it approached without haste, the slit of a mouth opening and closing with anticipation. She just hoped she got a few good shots in before it did her in. Maybe enough to give Wander a chance to run...

"Hey buddy," she continued. "How many of them creepy slimes do you have there on your side?" If it was one or two, he might have a chance at avoiding them, of getting into the trees. He was small, and fast when he wanted to be. Maybe he could put enough distance between them, hide away until the suns rose again. There could be hope.

"Oh, about five or six, as happy as you will with those big toothy smiles of theirs."

Sylvia paled. She didn't dare turn away from the thing in front of her, it being as close as it was, but the thought of what lay behind her chilled the blood in her veins. There was... there was no hope. And Wander was facing that down by himself, while she was here shaking like a newborn. She could still feel his steady warmth, and there wasn't a tremble present. She couldn't fathom it.

"Hey buddy," she said again, a fierce pride burning for her friend. "I just want you to know that—"

She didn’t get to finish, because at that moment the sky seemed to catch fire.

Instinct had Sylvia ducking for cover, knocking hard into Wander. The sky was alight, fire starting to rain down on them in great pillars. The beasties around her were forgotten for the time being, her sense of danger suddenly screaming at her that _up_ was were death lay. Her ears rang from the blasts. The fire – no wait, not fire, _lasers_ – ate up the ground around them, and with that, the beasts themselves. Sylvia grasped Wander's free hand (he still was holding on to the knife after all) and pulled him down to the ground as if that would be their salvation. All around was chaos. A blast, too close, heat searing her skin and the shockwave deadening her senses. She watched as Wander moved, seeming undeterred by the heaving soil, to grab hold of something – his hat – by her cowering form. And then, between blast and another, he was on her back and Sylvia was running.

She sprinted past mounds of ashen dirt, past downed trees, past blobs of gelatinous slime larger than herself but severed from their original wholes. It smelled like burning tar. One of the slime masses shuddered as she passed it, then started oozing back towards where it had come from.

A blast landed in front of them, a few dead trees bursting into flames. A burning branch fell in their path. Sylvia dodged right, dirt skidding up behind her.

She felt something fuzzy slip around her neck. The area in front of her was also on fire. She stumbled a bit and veered towards a patch of undisturbed trees. The tiny arms squeezed.

"...l... d- ...aa... er."

There was another blast of heat, too close for comfort. A mass of slime, turning towards her, maw opened wide. She skidded to a halt then ducked left. Danger. Danger. She dodged a mound of dirt. Another slime. More danger.

"It.... rd... t...er."

Her ears were ringing, and adrenaline gave the world a sharp, fast quality. And there was a pressure around her neck. Orange, in the corner of her vision. A face, wide eyes. Wander. He was leaning forwards, trying to get her attention.

"Syl! It's Hater! It's Lord Hater!" He spoke loudly, but his voice still sounded as if it came from underwater. Sylvia shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. They were surrounded by trees now. The sky still lit up intermittently as lasers fired down on the planet's surface. She slowed her pace in order to manoeuvre better and Wander's small arms loosened their desperate grip.

"What was that, buddy?" she finally asked, voice sounding loud in her ears.

"It's Hater!" Wander exclaimed once more, this time pointing up past the tops of the trees. "It's his ship, they're landing! You can hear that wonderful battle music of theirs too!"

He was right – about the Skullship at least. She was sure it was making that awful clanging sound as it passed overhead, but the ringing in her ears provided some small mercies it seemed. Wander practically crawled up her neck, craning his head to see beyond the trees. His delighted expression didn't match with the destruction the ship wrought, but Sylvia supposed that Wander tended to treat things differently with Lord Hater.

A loud screeching sounded somewhere close behind them – something akin to a large piece of metal being dragged along hard rock ground – followed by a threatening hiss. Sylvia didn't need any further indication to high-tail it out of there. The trees posed a bit of a problem, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. She felt the familiar tightening of her reigns as Wander finally managed to grab hold.

"The ship! The ship! Head towards the ship!" Wander called enthusiastically behind her.

Sylvia turned her head just enough to keep her friend in sight. "What, so why can die _faster_!?"

"We need'ta warn Hatey and mister Peepers about this planet!"

"Seriously!? I say good riddance!" Sylvia yelled, leaping over a mound of freshly blasted dirt. "Let 'em go up against the grop-awful beasties, serves 'em right!"

Wander ignored her. "We need'ta let 'em know this special planet doesn't like visitors!"

Sylvia wanted to say that she couldn't believe Wander was defending this deathly lump of space rock, but she knew him better than that. Of course he'd defend it. He'd gladly help someone slip a knife between his tiny little ribs if given half the chance. Wait, speaking of knives...

"Come on Syl," Wander continued. "You know, I'm sure Lord Hater would offer us a ride off this planet too if we asked nicely, seeing as we're out of Orbal juice. Wadd'ya think Syl ol' pal?"

Sylvia shook her head; he'd probably dropped his knife back in that clearing before they started running. Good riddance to that, too. Out loud, she heaved a sigh. "Fine!" she yelled, knowing that her friend was probably right. They surely weren't getting off this death-trap under their own power. "I'm sure they'd love to toss us in their prison cell. Again." She charted course for the rapidly descending ship.

"Aw Syl, it's just 'cause they don't have any other place to put us!"

Sylvia rolled her eyes. She knew Wander wasn't that naive. "You keep telling yourself that, buddy."

The Skullship came in sight from beyond a small rise, trees thinning out. It had already landed, and the entrance was just beginning to open. The "tongue" would roll out in mere moments and with that the army of Watchdogs ready to claim the planet.  Sylvia rushed towards it.

"Heyyyy Hater! It's me, Wander!” Wander yelled as if they could hear him up on that gaudy skull-shaped ship. “Sylvia's here too! Isn't this great!"

_No_ , thought Sylvia, _we nearly died and now we’re willingly running to our enemies. This is the opposite of great._

The lower jaw of the ship opened and the tongue started to descend. Sylvia wasted no time, leaping before it even hit the ground. Two bounds and she was in. The watchdogs hadn't even started marching. She still had the brass knuckles on. It was instant chaos.

"Move it, pipqueeks!" Sylvia swiped out at the stunned soldiers, knocking a handful down. A punch and kick had several more hitting the far walls of the entrance area.

Lord Hater was easily visible behind the rows of his army, Commander Peepers' tall hat poking up past the crowd next to him. Sylvia fought her way through while Wander called out greetings to various watchdogs. Hater yelled. Commander Peepers yelled.  Their shrill voices could be heard above the din, giving out orders which none of the watchdogs followed. Sylvia easily dodged a dismal attempt at capture before launching herself over a row of stunned soldiers to slide up next to the villainous duo.

“This ship,” she commanded, “in the air. _Now_.”

Wander poked his head out from behind Sylvia's neck. "Hatey! Mister Peepers! Lookin' good! How’s the conquering goin’?”

As expected, they were met with a roar and a few violent strikes of green lightning, all of which Sylvia dodged. His attack having failed, Hater glared at them in poorly contained anger. His conquering force was in a solid state of disarray, both from Sylvia’s entrance and Hater’s own inadvertent friendly-fire. Ignoring Peeper’s pleas to focus on the invasion he marched right up into Sylvia’s space.

" _WHY_. ARE YOU _TWO_." He tried to loom, and Sylvia rolled her eyes. “ON _MY_ _SHIP_!?” 

“Sir please.”

“SHUT _UP_ Peepers! I'm _trying_ to threaten them."

"But sir, the invasion!"

"Yeah, about that," Sylvia cut in. "No dice. So let's get this show in the road."

"No _dice_!?" Hater yelled. "No dice!? Excuuuuse you but you can't just break into _my_ ship and call _MY_ invasion off!"

Wander stretched out past her head. "What if we ask you _reaaaallly_ nicely, huh?"

Hater visibly bristled, green sparks flying. "Oh my grop NO! EW! Seriously, what's wrong with you!?"

(Behind him, ignored by all present, Peepers walked off towards the recently decimated battalion of watchdogs to the sounds of, "Seriously sir, I don't know why I try anymore.")

"You know," Wander continued, "suppressed rage really brings out the green in your eyes. You know what would bring it out even more? A smile!"

"SHUT UP! Shut UP!" Hater clenched his gloved hands, fists glowing acid green. "I don't care what you say! I don't care what you think! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO RUIN EVERYTHING! Like SERIOUSLY!! I'm DONE!" He took another few steps forwards, still trying to loom, and despite thinking it childish behaviour Sylvia adjusted accordingly. Hater got right up in her face, electricity crackling, and Sylvia pulled her fist back, ready to let it fly.

"Aww Hatey,” Wander sing-songed, “it sounds like what _you_ need is a big ol' hug!"

"NO, SHUT UP! I'M DONE WITH YOUR STUPID NICENESS AND 'FWIENDSHIP'!" Hater raged, gaze going straight over her head to glare at Wander. Always at Wander. Sylvia sighed silently. "DONE! I WILL END YOU ONCE AND FOR ALL! RIGHT HERE! RIGHT N- why are you holding a dagger?"

Wait, what?

Wander was silent for a moment before he laughed. It sounded off. There was a shifting of weight and then Sylvia felt him sliding off her back, his feet making a soft 'plink' on the metallic floor. She looked, and Hater was right. He still had it. She hadn't thought... he must have held on to it, clearly. He looked down at the small blade.

"Oh this lil' thing?" he said, making no move to drop it. He was oddly quiet after that.

Hater seemed at a loss for words. Sylvia looked between her friend and the perplexed skeleton. Wander looked as normal as he ever did despite their recent near-death experience, and to be honest Sylvia would have been surprised otherwise. But then he still held the small knife. It was grasped tightly in one hand and held up close to his tiny chest. Sylvia was surprised to see that he held it like a proper weapon.

Well then.

She would deal with Lord Hater first.

"Look loser," she said, turning back to him. "Why don't you take a few steps back." She reinforced her point by taking a few steps forwards, effectively putting herself between Hater and Wander. Hater was forced to make way for her, and he turned his glare on her.

"This is MY ship and I can DO what I WANT," he argued, still looking a little lost.

Sylvia could have been imagining it, but she thought she heard the tell-tale screeching of the slime creatures. She glanced to the still-open mouth of the ship. They needed to leave.

"Yeah well, I suggest you find it in yourself to _want_ to leave this grop-forsaken planet."

Hater crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And what if I don't?" he retorted like a petulant child. Sylvia rolled her eyes.

"Look, we're not here 'cuz we like it," she said. "We're here to _warn_ your sorry butts." _And to get off this lump of space junk_ , she added silently. "This planet is no good bad news. Like, _really_ bad news. Believe me when I tell ya' that you do _not_ wanna be here."

"And why should I believe you?" Hater held his chin up, skeletal expression pulled into something akin to scorn. Then, between one second and another, his shoulders dropped and his brow evened out. He leaned almost hesitantly into Sylvia's space and his voice dropped down two notches. "Hey, is he okay?"

Sylvia took a surprised step back. Hater tried peering over her shoulder.

Despite herself, she followed his gaze. Wander hadn't moved from his spot, which in itself was odd, and his gaze seemed to be stuck on nothing in particular.

"Oh yeah, no we're fine," Sylvia heard herself saying, sarcasm palpable. Her voice had inadvertently lowered to match Hater's tone. "Creepy planet, murderous slime creatures, nearly dying, it's been real fun." She glanced at Hater. "Look, for real. Can you do us all a favour and get this hunk of metal up in the air because I swear to grop we'll probably all die if you don't."

He made a real show of frowning skeptically at her before rocking back onto his heals. "If you're joking..." he growled.

There was a loud noise from outside. Metal and glass and death. She looked poignantly at the startled villain.

" _Fine_!" he said, back at his normal volume, and without turning away he followed it up with, " _Peepers_! Gather the troupes! We're leaving!"

Sylvia left him to approach her buddy. Wander seemed normal enough if she hadn’t been paying attention, and he even gave her a smile as she pulled up in front of him. But the closer she looked the more the smile seemed forced and the easier it was to notice the suppressed panic in his eyes. Sylvia took a breath.

"Hey buddy, mind giving me that?" she asked calmly.

Wander looked at her for a long moment before dropping his sights to the knife. "Oh," he said abruptly. "Haha, sure thing Syl. Dunno why I still have it, to b'completely honest." The tone was cheery but as she reached out to grab the knife the trembling in his hands became very apparent.

Oh.

Sylvia gently pried the weapon out of his grip and tossed it behind her. It 'ping pinged' on the floor of the ship. She didn't care what became of it. Sylvia never wanted to see it again. That done, she carefully pulled her buddy into a hug. He made a soft noise, then returned the embrace with unrestrained enthusiasm. Beneath their feet they felt the Skullship take off.

Thank _grop_. They were leaving.

"Hey buddy?" she started.

Wander hummed in question.

"What do you say to a nice relaxing nap?"

Wander squeezed his arms tight around the base of her neck. "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

Sylvia let herself loosen up. They would talk about this – what had happened – later. About the creatures, the knife, about how Wander could admit to being scared, if he’s ever frightened. How he doesn't need to pretend that everything is all right when it is so clearly isn't. About how _he_ can ask for help, if he needs it. Because Sylvia would always be there for him.

She would try and get him to talk. She wouldn't pry, but she would try and help. Not now, though. Later.

She picked up Wander and encouraged him to get on her back. He made a couple noises of complaint, but then settled in rather quickly. She turned to see Peepers headed their way. It seemed like most of the other watchdogs had already left the area. Hater stood near the front of the ship, grumbling audibly.

"Hey loser," Sylvia called to the tiny commander as he stopped in front of them. "We're gonna go get some shut eye. If you know what's good for ya', you won't do anything stupid like set up a trap while we nap."

"Could you at least do so in one of the prison cells?" asked Peepers with a sigh.

"Not a chance."

"Didn't think so."

Wander poked his head out from behind her neck. "Thank you mister Peepers!" He then looked around, spotting Hater. A grin – more natural than the ones before – lit up his face. "See'ya in a bit Hatey!" he called out happily.

"Stop calling me that! It's HATER, LORD Hater!"

Wander chuckled, and Sylvia took that as her cue to leave. She stepped through one of the side hallways, familiar enough with the ship's layout to navigate to an empty room. Despite the complaints she left behind, neither villain seemed too concerned about stopping them from invading their ship.

Regretfully, Sylvia made a mental note to thank the pair later.

But first, she was going to get some well-deserved rest.

Wander, bless his soul, had already fallen asleep.


End file.
